Inner City District, Bradley Square.
Time Amber Gallery.
"It's a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Beckman,"
Roderick said.
With a thud, he dropped a man who was tightly bound onto the floor.
This man was none other than a former member of the mysterious society, "Iron Hammer" Feray. His face bore an expression of numbness, as if his spirit had long been extinguished.
"The pleasure is all mine, Special Agent Roderick,"
Beckman, still dressed in his white suit, chuckled lightly.
He picked up Feray from the ground and dragged him to sit on a stool. Then, with a snap of his fingers, the expression on Feray's face immediately changed from one of dejection to a determined and radiant smile.
"This is the demeanor befitting a monk of the Sun Church, Feray,"
Beckman remarked with admiration.
Feray's eyes moved, staring straight at Beckman, with calm eyes devoid of any emotion.
